


Chapter 23.5 of Always at Night

by TriDom



Series: Nocturnal Problems [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Daddy/Boy Dynamics, M/M, Stiles is a virgin, part of a series, stiles first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDom/pseuds/TriDom
Summary: Written accompaniment to Always at Night (text fic)Chris gives in and fucks Stiles for the first time.





	Chapter 23.5 of Always at Night

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty guys here is the first written accompaniment

Chris followed Stiles into the kitchen and opened the dishwasher. Stiles turned on the faucet and started to rinse his plates like he always did. He handed them to Chris to let him load the trays. 

“Why don’t you have wine glasses?” Stiles asked, handing Chris his own glass after rinsing it. Stiles’s second glass was still on the dining table. 

“I didn’t bring a lot of my stuff from my old house. I just haven’t gotten around to buying new ones.” 

“But you have scotch tumblers,” Stiles said, smiling slightly. 

“Priorities.” 

Stiles laughed. “I guess so.” 

After Stiles rinsed the porcelain pan that had held the fish and Chris put it away and washed his hands, he nudged the dishwasher closed his foot. Stiles bumped into his space. Chris put his arms around him, letting Stiles slump against him like a ragdoll. 

“Are you feeling any better?” Chris asked against his hair. 

“Yeah. I’m kinda tipsy. It took the edge off.” 

“Good.” 

“Why aren’t people just drunk all the time?” 

“That’s generally frowned on by the public.” 

“Fuck them,” Stiles said before he rubbed his face against his t-shirt. 

The first night he and Peter drank with Stiles on the hill it had amused Peter way too much how Stiles didn’t act any better than a werewolf pup. He liked to nuzzle. He had basically climbed on Peter’s lap when Peter had touched his hair. After they had fucked around, They had laid in the back of the 4Runner. Stiles had laid his head on Peter’s lower chest and Peter had played with his hair while the echo of fireworks continued well after two in the morning. 

Chris reached for his phone in his pocket before realizing it wasn’t there. He looked around the open room before spotting it on the opposite counter. He watched it for a few seconds, but the light at the top didn’t flash blue. 

“So what’re we going to do now?” Stiles asked. 

“What do you want to do?” Chris asked. 

It was obvious in every line of Stiles’s body what he wanted. He’d gulped his first glass of wine like water until his cheeks were slightly red and he couldn’t keep his hands off Chris while he finished cooking dinner. 

“You know what I want,” Stiles said, staring at Chris’s chest. 

“I’m not going to do anything if you can’t say it.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, clenching his fingers in his t-shirt like a cat. If Stiles wasn’t completely in his personal space then he wasn’t happy. He was affectionate at the best of time and clingy if the slightest thing tipped him off. 

There were a few nights when his hallucinations and night terrors were worst that Chris had felt like he might have a heat stroke in his own bed with Stiles’s rolled in his blanket and burrowed against his front. The times that Peter spent the night Chris had all but shoved Stiles at him after Stiles went to sleep. It was nothing for him to leave the room for awhile and come back to Peter sweating slightly in his sleep with his arms still locked around Stiles. 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Chris leaned down and kissed him. Stiles touched his face with his hands cool enough to cause a cold chill down his spine. 

“Sorry,” Stiles said. 

“It’s fine,” Chris said, pulling him closer and sliding his hands beneath Stiles’s shirt. 

He was warmer under his clothes. It wasn’t quite right. It just felt like he’d been out in the cold for a few minutes in only the thin t-shirt. It made Chris want to rub warmth back into his skin. 

“We don’t have to and if you want to stop just tell me,” Chris said.   
“I know,” Stiles said. “I want to.” he said before rolling his lips between his teeth again. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Chris said, pressing his forehead to Stiles’s. 

It wasn’t the first time he said it. That had been during the fall out from the wendigo, but it had only slipped a few times since then. Stiles closed his eyes and inhaled a slow deep breath that Chris made himself mirror. He could feel Stiles’s nerves like static over his skin. 

“If you’re too nervous-,” he said softly. 

“No I’m not it’s just,” Stiles laughed slightly before looking at him and there wasn’t anything like fear in his face, just nervousness. “It’s just new.” 

“It’ll be good.”

“I know.” 

Chris kissed Stiles again, slipping his tongue inside of his mouth after a few moments and making Stiles’s press closer. Then he slid his hand down Stiles’s arm until threading their fingers together. He gave him a little tug as he pulled away and Stiles followed him down the hall. He almost grabbed his phone from the table as they passed, but the light still wasn’t on and it most likely wouldn’t be on for the rest of the night. 

When they got to the bedroom, Stiles closed the door behind him. Chris raised his brow, but Stiles just shrugged. 

“There’s no one here.” 

“I know it just feels weird with the door open.” 

“You’re strange,” Chris said, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for Stiles to come closer. 

They’d been in his bedroom often over the last few months. Sometimes it was just to sleep, sometimes to get off together. Sometimes Stiles seemed nervous and sometimes he was the first to jump on the bed and take off his jeans. 

This time he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them off with his shoes and socks before coming over to stand between Chris’s legs. Stiles reaching down and grabbed the hem of Chris’s shirt, pulling it up until Chris helped him take it off. 

Stiles’s fingers immediately went to the tattoos on his chest like it almost always did. It was old and needed to be redone. Even Chris could hardly tell what it was supposed to be anymore. Chris’s skin dimpled in gooseflesh at his touch. 

“Take off your shirt,” Chris said as he took off his boots and socks. 

When Stiles did what he said, Chris pulled him onto his lap until Stiles was straddling his thighs. He was wearing one of the fitted pairs of underwear Peter got him. They were purple and brought out the brown in his moles and the contrast to his skin. If it was possible to fuck him in them, he would leave them on. 

As they kissed, Stiles’s cold chest pressed against his, either zapping his own warmth or the friction was rubbing it away. Either way within a few seconds Stiles didn’t feel like he was freezing anymore. 

He had gotten better at kissing. He could feel so much of what he did mirrored on his lips and it felt good. Better than the fumbling and biting that Stiles had done on his couch the first time like there was too much energy in every direction. 

Stiles pulled away first, getting on the bed and scooting back toward the headboard. Chris followed him and turned on the lamp beside the bed before dragging Stiles’s underwear down his legs. 

Chris took off his jeans and underwear after so he wouldn’t rub the tender skin raw before he laid between Stiles’s thighs, kissing his lips, then down his neck. They’d done this some too. Only once or twice. It pressed the boundaries too far. Chris had good control, but when he was already turned on and Stiles was asking to be fucked, he was only human. 

Stiles slid his hands over his back like he couldn’t hold still Chris thought that had a lot less to do with his age and more with the way Stiles’s brain worked. He couldn’t sit still when they watched TV. He was always touching something, moving in some way. 

It was so different to Peter that it was almost jarring. 

He was positive that as Peter had gotten older there wasn’t a time that he touched Chris that he didn’t have some end goal. He was so focused in everything he did. With him and Stiles being the exact opposite they should clash, but they didn’t. When Chris fucked Peter on The Hill and Peter had groped Stiles it had been hypnotic the way Peter brought Stiles’s down, made him focus without being firm like he had to. 

“You’re getting pre-cum on my stomach,” Stiles said, laughing slightly. 

“Sorry.” 

Stiles slid his hand between them squeezing Chris’s dick and making a quiet noise against Chris’s mouth when he move up and the cooling pre-cum spread over his palm. 

“I like knowing you’re into it.” 

“Of course I am,” Chris said. 

He kissed his mouth and his cheek again before leaning over to reach in the bedside drawer. He grabbed the lube the and a condom, tossing the latter beside Stiles’s hip and sitting back with the other. He poured some on his fingers before sliding them behind Stiles’s balls and down. Stiles spread his legs and looked down, watching him, holding his breath. 

“Remember to breathe.” 

Stiles nodded and inhaled. Chris watched his chest expand before he slipped his first finger inside. Now that was easy enough. Stiles didn’t even flinch. 

“Did you stretch yourself earlier?” 

“Yeah. Just in case,” Stiles said. 

“How does that feel?” 

“Good,” Stiles said before his throat bobbed. “Really good.” 

Chris leaned over him as he started to work his second finger inside. Stiles pressed up to kiss him as soon as he was in range. Chris kissed him back just as hungry. Stiles winced as he got his second finger it, but it only lasted a half a second before he was moving his lips again. When Chris pressed his fingers into his prostate, Stiles made a choked off sound, trying to press against him, but Chris had too much space between their hips. 

“Do you like that?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding tightly with his face red. 

“Breathe.” 

Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath and looking up at him. He looked younger when he was blushing. The shouldn’t make Chris’s dick feel heavier. 

“Good boy.” 

“Don’t,” Stiles said. He was whining again. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Chris said, kissing him again. 

Stiles kissed him again with a small noise in the back of his throat. Chris felt it more than he heard it. He could still barely taste the wine on his tongue. Stiles ducked his head slightly when Chris started to rub three fingers against him. 

“Just fuck me. Three makes me really sore.” 

“Then fucking you is going to make it worse.” 

“I’ll tell you to stop if it hurts too much,” Stiles said. “I promise, just try.” 

Chris pushed two fingers in again before leaning back enough to pour more lube on himself. 

“If I fuck you from behind it’ll feel better.” 

“No, like this,” Stiles said, holding out his arms. “Please.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’ll tell you. I want to be able to kiss.” 

Chris almost growled. That’s what it felt like. Stiles leaned up enough to put his arms around his shoulders. Chris let Stiles pull him back down. He rubbed his face against Stiles’s neck and felt his palms sweat. He’d done that so much with Peter. If they fucked face to face Peter made such they reeked of each other by the end of it. 

He pulled Stiles’s thighs up until they were against his sides. When he felt the tip of his dick slide over Stiles’s wet loose hole, he moved his hand down to brace himself against Stiles and started to press against him. The angle wasn’t great. They should be using a pillow or something, but Stiles was wrapped around him like bailing wire. 

“Push out,” he said against Stiles’s ear. 

He felt Stiles clench and felt the very tip of his cock sinking inside. He felt his own breath catch before he pulled back. Stiles whimpered and moved his lips blindly across Chris’s cheek until he found his lips. Chris kissed him back as he moved forward again. When his slick cock head slipped up catching on Stiles’s rim, Stiles jerked, his eyes going wide. 

“I’m sorry. This isn’t a good angle.” 

Stiles’s cheek dented as he bit the inside. Some of the dazed lust had left his eyes. He dug his fingers into Chris’s arms. Chris pulled back and kissed the side of his neck. He could feel him swallow and the slow release of his fingers like he’d forgotten what his own hands were doing. 

“Roll over.” 

“No. I want to do it like this.” 

“It will feel better if you roll over,” Chris said. “We’ll do it missionary as soon as you can take it easier,” he said. “We’ll still be close.” 

Stiles rolled his chapped lips between his teeth before he started to move. Chris guided his hips and legs until he was on his knees in front of him. He ran his hand up Stiles’s spine, watching his back arch down and his ass raise up like it was instinct to push out his opening like that. 

Chris moved up until his thighs were against the back of Stiles’s. When his half hard dick pressed against his taint, Stiles pushed back, then moaned, burning his face in his arms. Chris ran his fingers down and pushed at the small divot behind his balls. Stiles lifted his head and made a small noise before Chris slid his fingers farther up and dipped one back into the loose rim of his hole. 

He rubbed Stiles’s prostate a few times while he poured fresh lube on his dick and lined himself up. 

“I’m going to let you rock back on me,” he said. 

He stroked himself until he was achingly hard and pressed against the dark pink of Stiles’s hole. He watched the muscle clench and unfurl, the edge glittering in the lamp light, wet with lube as Stiles rocked his hips, making small cut off moans. He watched the tip of his dick start to slide inside, the tapered point being taken easily before Stiles started to press back, jerk forward, whimper then cuss. 

“Push out,” Chris said, running one hand up Stiles’s side. “Lean forward on one of your arms and touch yourself.” 

Stiles did as he said and jerked like a fish when he touched his own dick. The sound of his hand on himself was wet even without lube. When Peter was young he used to precum like that too. It had been nearly as bad as when he’d fucked women in his late teens. They would argue about who laid in the damp spot until they got smart enough to use a towel. 

As soon as Stiles pushed out, Chris sank passed the resistance of his muscles. It caught him off guard enough that he moaned louder than Stiles, whose noise was crossed with pain and pleasure. 

“Hurts, shit that burns,” Stiles said. 

“I can stop.” 

“No don’t,” Stiles said, panting with his eyes squeezed shut. Then Chris heard the friction of his hand moving again. “Just hold still.” 

“Okay,” Chris said, running both hands up and down Stiles’s pale sides. 

Very slowly the muscles of his legs started to move as he rocked. First he made no noise, but Chris could see the side of his face and how creased his features were before his movements became longer, the lubricant spreading, and his body adjusting. Then his small whimpers that almost sounded like tears were deeper. Chris waited until his lips were parted with a nearly constant stream of sounds before he pulled Stiles’s back and leaned over him, wrapping his arms around his smaller body. He pressed his hips flush with Stiles’s and felt his first real moan as he sank completely inside. He pulled out slightly and sank in again to the same noise. 

“Is that too deep?” 

“I don’t, fuck I don’t know. It hurts, but it feels good.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, pressing forward again, firm, but slow. 

It was good he lived by himself, because Stiles was loud. Chris didn’t care. He liked it. He liked a vocal partner, but then again, he’d had no choice. Peter had been his most constant partner and he moaned like a banshee when he was being fucked. They fucked in Peter’s bedroom once and that was the last time Chris ever made that mistake. 

“Do you want me to fuck you for awhile before I make you cum?” Chris asked, kissing the back of Stiles’s neck. 

Stiles nodded, pressing back to meet Chris’s thrust then moaning loudly when their bodies connected with more force than they had been. 

“Just fuck me. Really really hard. It feels so good.” 

“It’s going to feel good for about two minutes this time then you’re going to get sore.” 

“That’s okay,” Stiles said. “Just fuck me some more. Feels so fucking good.” 

Chris picked up his pace, keeping in as much contact as he could with Stiles’s body. It still wasn’t a fraction of how deep or hard he would fuck Peter, but it felt good. Stiles was almost painfully tight. It wasn’t something he would enjoy all the time, but knowing he was the first person to fuck Stiles, that he was doing it the first way, taking care of him, making it good, was almost enough to make him cum. 

“Fuck, Chri-. Daddy.” 

“That’s my baby,” Chris said, kissing the nape of Stiles’s hair. 

Stiles’s skin was starting to sweat. It was the first time he had sweat from being fucked. Something about that hit Chris right in the stomach and the balls. He was the first person to ever hear Stiles get fucked, to hear him make tight moans as he worked to fuck himself. He was the first person to see Stiles like this and it was elating. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said like he might start crying. “I need to get off my ass hurts.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. I want to get off with you in me.” 

Chris reached beneath them, replacing Stiles’s hand with his own. He tried to match the speed and roughness of their movements of his hand. After fucking too many people it was easier than it should’ve been. Stiles came undone in his palm in less than a minute. His body seized like a vice around him as his muscles tried to push him out and suck him in at the same time. 

Chris fucked into him hard a few times as his orgasm rose then reached its peak. As his body went soft and pliant Chris fucked him a few more strokes and came into the condom as he held Stiles’s against his chest. Stiles felt like he was purring as Chris pulled him into his arms, still mostly on top of him and buried inside him. He felt him spasm a few times around him and Stiles’s soft whimpers before he pulled off with a tiny hiss. Chris reached down and pulled off his condom before he pulled Stiles back tightly, not caring that his dick was still sticky with his own cum. 

“Love you,” Stiles said. 

“I love you too,” Chris said, raising up enough to kiss the corner of Stiles’s mouth before squeezing him. “You did so good.” 

“Really? I wasn’t bad at it?” 

Chris snorted slightly. “No.” 

Technically he wasn’t the best fuck he’d ever had. Peter probably held that title, but as far as leaving him emotionally sated and physically, he was up there. Probably near Peter on that list as well. 

He didn’t realize he’d started to frown until Stiles rolled over in his arms and touched his mouth. Chris kissed his thumb before opening his eyes. Stiles’s dark brown eyes were as pretty as Peter’s deep blue ones, but he wasn’t happy about the fact that he was thinking of Peter at all. It made him want to reach for his phone and maybe type a reply to Peter’s text or possibly throw it out of the window. 

“Stop thinking,” Stiles said. He sounded whiny again. 

Chris kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth, then on his lips. 

“When do you have to be home?” 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m there by the time he wakes up.” 

Then he pulled Chris’s arms higher around his shoulder until he was snuggled close. Chris moved the blankets over them and held Stiles’s close to keep him warm. It wasn’t long before he felt Stiles’s slow even breaths against his chest. He laid still and felt his mind turning slowly. It was hard to think after getting off that hard. He had enough time to think he wouldn’t be able to sleep before he wasn’t awake any more.


End file.
